The Lizzie McGuire Movie: How it should have been
by wodehousefan
Summary: Lizzie McGuire has graduated junior high school and is going on a class trip to Rome. Lizzie, Miranda and Gordo are hoping to find some adventure there only they didn't quite expect it to turn out this way. This is my version of the Lizzie McGuire movie,
1. Chapter 1

**Graduation Day Nightmares**

A/N: I was sorely disappointed by the absence of some great characters like Miranda and Larry, from the Lizzie McGuire movie. So here is my version of what happened on the field trip to Rome which Miranda and Larry were a part of as well. This will follow the same plot outline as the movie with the addition of these characters making it that much more fun.

Disclaimer: Disney owns the Lizzie McGuire show, The Lizzie McGuire movie, the characters, the plot and some of the dialogue. If I had owned any of it, I wouldn't be writing this; I would have made it into a movie.

Anyone wandering into the auditorium of Hillridge Junior High on that particular morning could be forgiven for thinking that they had walked into room which had seen a particularly violent explosion of blue. But there was a perfectly simple explanation for this, viz. that it was graduation day and all the students of the graduating class were dressed in their blue robes, wearing their blue caps with blue tassels. It was an almost festive atmosphere, with parents milling about, giving their children advice (advice that was forgotten the very next moment) and teachers rushing around trying to get their students to follow some discipline on this, their last day at junior high.

And presently, another member of the graduating class entered, accompanied by her parents and her younger brother. Her name was Elizabeth Brooke McGuire, or "Lizzie" as everyone called her. Lizzie was a pretty, brown-eyed blonde, and at that moment those eyes were clouded over, as she desperately tried to detach herself from her parents so that she could avoid any possible embarrassment that they might bring upon her. But like most parents, they too were hanging on to her in a manner more characterized by limpets on rocks. What was bothering her mother, Jo McGuire, wasn't so much the fact that her baby was now grown up and was heading off to high school. No, what worried her was that her baby was now grown up and was heading off to Rome on a two-week class trip without her. And Jo was putting this thought into words.

"Honey, just yesterday you were in diapers-now you've graduated junior high, and you're growing up, going to Rome for two weeks all by yourself," said Jo, "Without me. Without me there. Without me with you. You there. Without me."

"Mom," interrupted Lizzie, determined to nip this in the bud. She knew that her mother could go on for hours when she began to babble like this, "That's just about all the combinations of those words you can make."

"This is a big day for you, sweetheart," said her dad, Sam McGuire. Lizzie knew what that meant.

_Uh-oh, Dad's gonna quote some dead guy_, she thought.

"As William Shakespeare once said," Mr. McGuire continued, "Be not afraid of greatness; some people are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness _thrust_ upon them."

"Thanks, dad, but I'm just trying to survive graduation. Greatness can wait till this nightmare is over," replied Lizzie, looking winded by this flood of philosophy.

Her brother, Matt McGuire, had no such words of wisdom for her. He was too occupied with his video camera, which he intended to use to record any possible catastrophic moments that might occur during the graduation ceremony. His silence suited Lizzie just fine; she had, after all, spent her whole life trying to pretend that she wasn't related to Matt.

Just then she heard her name called, and looking around she saw Miranda Sanchez heading her way, after having successfully shaken off her parents. Miranda, an attractive brunette of Filipino descent and with a penchant for trying out strange colours in her hair, had been Lizzie's best friend and fashion confidante for a long, long time. Lizzie quickly guided her own parents to some empty seats and then walked over to meet Miranda.

"Hey Miranda, you look great." Lizzie told her best friend.

"You look fabulous too, Lizzie," replied Miranda sincerely.

To a casual observer, this exchange would have been somewhat perplexing, since both Lizzie and Miranda were wearing robes of the exact same colour and hue; after all, it was graduation day. And one person who was about to be very perplexed was their other best friend, David "Gordo" Gordon, whom they had just spotted in the mass of students.

Lizzie had known Gordo since they had been a day old, and they had been inseparable since then. The best way to describe him would be to mention his moniker 'Gor-dork', and there you have it, a perfect word picture of the boy. Gordo was as smart as they came, and this was complemented by a healthy dose of common sense; which, incidentally, was the only thing that set him apart from his closest rival for geekiness, Larry Tudgeman. Gordo had curly hair that was longer than necessary, possibly to make up for his lack of inches lengthwise. Though Lizzie wouldn't admit it, she valued his opinion highly (even if she didn't agree with him on occasion) and this led her to ask him about her appearance.

"Hey Gordo!" Lizzie called out, walking up behind him, and then, gesturing to Miranda and herself, she asked, "So, do we look okay?"

To his credit, Gordo took a good, hard look. Though, it _is_ possible that he was looking to see if she was joking. He had not failed to notice that Lizzie and Miranda and indeed every other student in the hall, including himself, were wearing robes of the same colour. Finally he settled for discretion being the better part of valour.

"Lizzie, I'm your guy best friend, why don't you just talk to Miranda about it?" he said.

"I did, but we wanna know what you think," Lizzie replied.

Gordo sighed. "Yes, your blue robes look way cooler than all the other girls'," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Unfortunately (or, perhaps fortunately for Gordo), the two girls took no notice of his sarcasm as they beamed at him. "Thanks, Gordo," they said in unison. Gordo shook his head, wondering if, even after all these years of having two best friends who were girls, he'd ever really understand women. He was saved from making another sarcastic comment, by the appearance of someone who could do it for him, Kate Sanders.

Kate Sanders had once been Lizzie's best friend, but all that had changed when Kate had become one of the most sought after girls in the school, and that had been when the boys at Hillridge had woken up to the fact that she was hot. Naive and with an ego larger than a hot-air balloon, Kate was now a member of the cheerleading squad (something which annoyed Lizzie no end), and she usually had all the boys swooning over her (also something that annoyed Lizzie no end). Since then, Kate had treated Lizzie like dirt (for want of a 'cleaner' expression). And now she came up to Lizzie, her trademark sneer plastered all over her face.

"Only you would think that you could hide that powder blue, puffy sleeved, it's kind of a peasant dress, but it's really a questionable disaster of fiber content that you wore to the spring dance," she said, and then she unzipped the front of Lizzie's robes, revealing the outfit in question. Triumphantly, Kate declared, "Lizzie McGuire, you are an outfit repeater!", and with another annoying smile, she walked away.

If Lizzie had been worried that her parents might have embarrassed her, she needn't have worried any longer; because Kate had embarrassed her much more than her parents could possibly have done, even in a hundred lifetimes. The whole auditorium fell silent and everyone turned to look at Lizzie with a great deal of interest.

_I may be an outfit repeater, but Kate is an outfit rememberer; and that's just as pathetic_, Lizzie thought, furiously zipping up the front of her robes.

Lizzie, however, didn't say this out loud, and neither did she contemplate revenge. There is the small problem in being a spineless jellyfish, or a pacifist as Lizzie preferred to call herself, in that it makes you incapable of responding to events such as these, other than with the usual sheepish grin and a fervent wish for the earth to swallow you whole.

"Does she not have anything better to do than make my life miserable?" she asked Miranda and Gordo. Thankfully, not for nothing did she have two best friends who had stayed with her through thick and thin.

Miranda placed a soothing arm around Lizzie's shoulders. "Don't worry about Kate, Lizzie. She's got her nose so far up in the air, that she'll probably need an oxygen tank soon," she said, grinning widely.

Lizzie smiled too, though it was a watery effort. "I just cannot believe that we used to be best friends," she complained to the world in general.

"Ah, but you're forgetting. That was before she became popular," said Gordo sagely.

They would have continued ripping apart Kate's many faults, something that had become a sort of pastime for them, if they hadn't been interrupted by the clarion call of Mr. Escobar shouting "MCGUIRE".

Wondering what Mr. Escobar could possibly want, Lizzie walked up to him. "Hi, Mr. Escobar," said Lizzie, brightly, and then she crinkled her nose at the strange smell that assailed her. "Nice aftershave," she managed to gasp.

"Oh thank you," simpered Mr. Escobar, "Anyway, Margaret Chan seems to have a very bad cold, so… you're up."

Lizzie had a feeling a great foreboding. "Up where?" she asked carefully.

"At the podium. You're going to deliver the class president's speech," explained Mr. Escobar.

Lizzie's resemblance to a goldfish was particularly striking at that moment. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Her mind was taken up with envisioning the horror of having to make a speech in front of the throng of students, parents and teachers that surrounded her. Wildly she looked around for an escape route, preferably one that would take her to China. Unfortunately, all exits had been sealed off and she was trapped. With a great effort, she ditched the goldfish imitation and managed to find her voice.

"What about the vice-president?" she asked, her voice rising a couple of octaves higher than usual.

"He's not graduating till next year," said Mr. Escobar, "The secretary-treasurer is next in line."

"All I did was handle petty cash," said Lizzie, desperately trying to find a way out of this predicament.

"Well, I'm sorry but you're not buying your way out of this," said Mr. Escobar, laughing at his own razor-sharp wit, and then he continued, "Now I want you to deliver your speech with as much pride, and commitment as Margaret Chan would. Even though, you're no Margaret Chan." And with these words of cheer, he flounced away.

_I'm no Margaret Chan; I'm no Margaret Chan. Gulp…RUN_, were the jumbled thoughts that were whizzing around inside Lizzie's brain.

It's a strange thing about time. Up until that moment, Lizzie had been wishing that the whole graduation ceremony would rush by without incident, but time had been crawling along unbearably slowly. Now, when she wanted time to slow down, so that she could think of something to say, it felt as if the clock had been put on fast forward. In almost no time, the ceremony had begun, and soon she was being called on to speak. The fact that the MC referred to her as "Loozy McGuire" caused Lizzie's already low self-confidence to plummet a few notches lower.

Lizzie walked over to the podium, her feet feeling as if the bones in them had been replaced by lead. It seemed to take an inordinately long time for her to reach the podium, and when she got there, the feeling of wanting to be elsewhere had never been stronger. And it didn't help that at that moment, the spotlight swiveled around to settle squarely on her, blinding her momentarily and giving her that strange feeling of being all alone in an unforgiving world. Lizzie gulped a couple of times more and then, as if from a great distance, a voice began to speak. It took her a few moments to realize that it was her own.

The reactions of the rest of the McGuire household to this turn of events were as interesting as they were diverse. Mrs. McGuire gave a convulsive leap when Lizzie's name was announced, and then she grabbed her husband's hand, somehow hoping that this gesture would inspire Lizzie to hitherto unknown heights of eloquence. Mr. McGuire, for his part, writhed like a tortured snake and said "Ouch", when his wife's fingers closed around his hand in a vice-like grip. In all their years of marriage he had never suspected that Jo McGuire had a grip like the bite of a crocodile. Feebly, he attempted to loosen her fingers from his hand, speaking softly to her all the while and advising her to stay calm. All that achieved was to cause Jo to hang on even tighter, and so Sam gave up, praying that she would let go before gangrene set in and they had to amputate his fingers. Matt, on the other hand, looked as if Christmas had come early. He knew only too well of his sister's inability to face large crowds, and he confidently expected that when she did end up making a fool of herself, he'd be ready to capture the moment for posterity.

"Um… Margaret Chan couldn't make it tonight, so I'm going… I'm going to be filling in for her," Lizzie began, and then she lost her way. She took a look at the large picture of Margaret Chan, hanging next to the podium, willing it to speak instead of her.

"Not that anyone can really do that," Lizzie continued when Margaret Chan's picture gave her no sudden burst of inspiration, "but…um, anyway…I think that we can all agree that junior high is filled with embarrassing and awkward, and sometimes some downright humiliating moments. Right?"

A deafening silence filled the room, and her parents smiled weakly at her. Lizzie felt as if the temperature of the auditorium must fast be approaching the level more common to a hot day in the Sahara.

"Uh… oh, me neither," said Lizzie quickly, a feeling of being unable to breathe settling over her. It didn't help that Kate and Claire Miller were giggling wickedly and making some very unflattering remarks behind Lizzie's back. Desperately, she looked around at Gordo and Miranda for help, but for once her best friends were at a loss and couldn't bail her out. Miranda threw her hands out in defeat, while Gordo, though not much better, gestured that Lizzie get a drink of water to calm down. Feeling that this was better than nothing, Lizzie mumbled something unintelligible about how Margaret Chan would have wanted her to have some water, and she made a break for the jug placed some distance behind her.

"Klutzy McGuire" was a term that had been much in use when Lizzie had been in fourth grade. And though with the passing years, she had learnt to handle herself with poise and grace, there were some moments when her inherent klutziness shone through, such as when she was under tremendous stress. And if you, the reader, don't think she was under great stress at that moment, then I, as the narrator, have failed spectacularly. The short trip from the podium to the jug of water was a simple matter of ten steps at the most, yet on the fourth step Lizzie managed to get her feet mixed up, tripped, and she sprawled to the floor with all the grace of a rhinoceros. If it were only her on the ground, it may not have been too bad. But on her downward descent to meet the unrelenting floor of the auditorium, she flailed around for something to hold on to, as the world disintegrated around her (or so it seemed to her). What was worse was that she did find something to hold on to, the edge of the curtain which served as a backdrop for the stage; and she took it down with her. With a sort of domino effect, the rest of the curtain collapsed right on top of the graduating class, who suddenly found themselves ensconced in a cocoon of canvas.

Mr. Escobar felt as if he had stepped into a teacher's twilight zone, and admitted himself at a loss. There are things that a teacher wishes he will never have to experience in his professional life, and this was one of those things. So he did the only thing he could think of; he ran up to the conductor of the band and instructed him to play anything that came to mind, even if it was "Mary had a little lamb" (though "Rockabye baby" might have been more appropriate).

Lizzie watched, her face a mask of horror, as the students who had eluded the attack of the backdrop, aided the others in escaping its clutches. There was no doubt in her mind; she didn't need the earth to swallow her up at that moment, it would take the whole galaxy to do that. Deciding to get a head start on it, Lizzie went to ground, covering herself with the canvas.

The auditorium was in an uproar, students screaming, parents yelling and chaos reigned supreme. In the midst of this cacophony of noise one person stood completely unconcerned, and perhaps even, deliriously happy. Matt McGuire had recorded the whole incident. And he had plans for that tape… big plans.


	2. Chapter 2

**An evening in Roma**

It is often when a person is trying his or her hardest to be inconspicuous, which is when he or she is stands out the most. And this was also true for Lizzie McGuire. After the fiasco at the graduation ceremony, she had spent most of her time cooped up at home so as to avoid all contact with anyone who might have seen her performance. Miranda, Gordo and even Lizzie's parents had tried everything to get her to step out of the house, but she had steadfastly refused. The only thing she looked forward to was the trip to Rome, because it meant she could leave her graduation day memories behind. So on that particular day, the McGuires reached the airport and Lizzie chivvied her parents into the terminal as fast as she could to avoid any embarrassing stares. But her fame had spread like wildfire and she attracted quite a few interested glances and pointed fingers as they hurried into the terminal. It didn't help that Sam and Jo seemed to be taking an inordinately long amount of time to enter the airport.

"C'mon, Mom, Dad, I have to get out of the country. Hurry," urged Lizzie.

"Calm down, honey," Jo replied, in what she hoped was a soothing voice, "I know you're still upset but it wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad!" shrieked Lizzie, "Was your graduation on 'Good Morning America', Mom?"

Since her graduation hadn't been on 'Good Morning America', Jo held her peace, deciding to allow Lizzie the space to get over that particular catastrophe.

"What kind of creep would send Diane Sawyer a video and embarrass you like that?" Sam thought aloud. None of them noticed a smile of satisfaction flit across Matt's face at these words. He had his trusty video camera with him, in the hopes of finding similar moments of his sister's embarrassment.

"Lizzie!" squealed a voice, ahead of them and Miranda came barreling down on her. "I can't believe we're actually going to Rome for two weeks," she said, almost jumping up and down in excitement.

Lizzie felt herself get carried away by Miranda's enthusiasm. "I know, how cool is that? And we can check out some hot…," Lizzie checked herself just in time, remembering that her parents had not left, and that they wouldn't be too reassured by her talking about hot Italian guys. However, Miranda understood what she had wanted to say, and she winked to let her know that she was with Lizzie all the way.

"I can't believe this," said a very frustrated voice next to them.

"Believe what, Gordo?" asked Lizzie, turning to the owner of the voice. And if the voice had sounded frustrated, the person to whom it belonged to was even more so. Gordo's forehead was wrinkled as he angrily flipped through the info packet that they had each been given.

"Do you know how many historical places have been left off the itinerary?" he asked Lizzie and Miranda, "I mean, if we are to soak up the culture when we're there; how are we supposed to do that if we don't get to go to all the important places?"

Lizzie and Miranda sighed; this was so typical of Gordo. They were going to Rome for two weeks and he was worried about what places they were going to visit there.

"Gordo, come on, we are going to Rome!" Lizzie pleaded, "Can we please keep the trivia to a minimum and enjoy ourselves?"

"Yeah and surely even you must be looking forward to, you know, meeting some pretty Italian girls?" Miranda chimed in.

"No," said Gordo bluntly, without looking up from his info packet.

"Why not?" asked Lizzie noticing his rather quick rebuttal.

"Yeah, Gordo, why not?" asked Miranda, only she didn't seem surprised, in fact, she was eyeing Gordo shrewdly.

"Err…," Gordo looked around wildly, feeling trapped. He was, however, saved the unpleasant task of having to undergo an interrogation that would have put the Gestapo to shame, by the sound of a shrill whistle.

Turning, the three of them observed a strange sight. Their chaperone, a lady, short in stature and full of build, yet the sort who instinctively emanates the aura of not standing any funny business, was riding around in one of the luggage carts and attempting to herd her charges together.

"What… is that?" asked Matt, for once looking intimidated.

"That is Miss Ungermeyer," Gordo explained, "She's going to be our high school principal for the next four years. Stay on her good side, and it's a one way ticket to an Ivy League school."

"And what if you're on her bad side?" Matt enquired, though looking as if he did not really want to know the answer.

"Well…" Gordo began, when they were interrupted by one of the airport cleaning crew, who unenthusiastically informed them that he had clean up some puke. No more words were necessary, Gordo just gestured at the retreating back of the man with such an exciting job on hand.

"You end up like that guy?" Matt asked with awe.

"No… you end up working for that guy," Gordo said, putting the finishing touches to Matt's unstinted admiration of Miss Ungermeyer.

As they watched, Miss Ungermeyer got off the cart and was immediately mobbed by a crowd of worried parents, each yelling about daughters who weren't supposed to eat garlic or soya products, or sons with tennis elbows. Miss Ungermeyer fixed them all with an eye which would have put the Ancient Mariner to shame, and deftly she put them in place explaining, that as she had the unenviable task of dragging their progeny through thirty-one monuments of historical importance in two weeks, she hoped that in that time they would have at least had a taste of culture before returning to their not so cultured roots. But, she continued, since these few were the ones who weren't the sort of trailer trash who had opted for the thirty six hour bus ride to the Waterslide Wonderland; they would have the opportunity to savour the delights of La Cittá Eterna. This statement caused many blank looks among the traveling party, and it was left to Miss Ungermeyer to explain that the phrase meant 'The Eternal City' or Rome, leaving her in no doubt that this trip was, without doubt, going to be something of a trial.

"Watch… and learn," Gordo smirked to Lizzie and Miranda, as he walked up to Miss Ungermeyer and turned on the Gordon charm.

"Excuse me, Miss Ungermeyer. I just wanted to let you know that I'm really looking forward to this exciting, and academically enriching trip," he said, with big dollops of sincerity added for effect.

"What's your name?" asked the Ungermeyer, looking as if she wanted to imprint Gordo's face on her mental retina.

_Oh yeah, that was too easy_, Gordo thought. "David Gordon, ma'am," he said.

"David Gordon? Well, I think that's Italian for sneaky little brown-noser with a hidden agenda," she said, and with a pat on his shoulders, she walked away; leaving Gordo looking stunned, and Lizzie and Miranda in a fit of giggles.

Just then, the unemotional voice used in airports around the world, announced that they had better get ready to board or risk being left behind, although she didn't say it in so many words. Miranda and Gordo hurried off to say their goodbyes to their families, leaving Lizzie with her family. Lizzie ruffled Matt's hair, much to his displeasure. Though he said nothing, his demeanor suggested the delight at her going away for two weeks, and the wish that she could be gone longer. Then came the dreaded moment, when her mother hugged her and wouldn't let go.

"Mom, it's only two weeks," Lizzie mumbled trying to escape her mother's enveloping arms.

"Honey, we'll be standing here for two weeks if you don't let go," said Sam gently, attempting to pry Jo away from Lizzie.

Reluctantly, Jo let go and stood back with a watery smile. Lizzie, glad that she was free at last, turned to her father, who had the sense to just hug her and say a quick goodbye. It is the strange thing about fathers; you think they couldn't possibly understand what goes on in your lives and then they can just surprise you.

Lizzie began to walk towards the rest of her group as her parents turned away to leave. As Lizzie walked, she began to think, about the woman whom she had taken for granted for all her life; the woman who had always been there to give advice or just be… her mother. And Lizzie was going to be without her for two weeks, the longest time she had spent without her mother. In an instant, she made up her mind and she turned around and ran back to Jo and gave her a hug; one that came from the heart, and didn't care how many people were watching.

Satisfied that for once she'd done the right thing, Lizzie brushed away the tears that were threatening to fall at any moments, said her final goodbyes and rushed to check in. Miranda and Gordo had already checked in before her, and once all the formalities were dealt with, they headed into the lounge to wait for the flight. As they were standing around waiting for the flight to be announced, all three felt themselves get pulled into a group hug by someone behind them.

"Lizzie, Gordo, Miranda!" said the excited voice of Ethan Craft, "Hey, we're going to the land where they invented spaghetti."

Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda grinned sheepishly at him; Ethan Craft was the Hillridge pretty boy who thought 2 plus 2 was 5. Lizzie had had a big crush on him, only for him to turn around and tell her that he felt no chemistry with her. That had cooled the heated passion, and now Lizzie looked upon him as a friend - a very dumb friend - but a friend nonetheless. Gordo had never liked him much and they had never hung out together, and Miranda only thought of him as cute and nothing more.

"Hey, Tudgeman," Ethan yelled into their ears, after spotting Larry Tudgeman in the crowd, and he moved away.

"Is that Tudgeman?" Miranda asked, surprised, as they turned to look at the repeated winner of the 'nerd of the year' contest.

Her surprise was warranted, because Tudgeman did not look like Tudgeman. Apparently, the incentive of the trip had caused him to remodel himself completely, and to that end, he had changed his hairstyle and was actually wearing a new, and pretty cool, shirt. In fact, he looked much as he had done at Miranda's party which had taken place some time earlier.

Since it seemed as if Miranda could not tear her eyes away from the new look Tudgeman, Lizzie punched her arm to get her attention, because a most pleasant thought had entered Lizzie's mind.

"And you know what the best part is?" she asked her friends, "Kate and all of her little blow-drying, teeth-whitening friends who've been ratting on me for messing up graduation, all went to Waterslide Wonderland. What?" The last part was addressed to Miranda, who had scrunched her face up apologetically, and was now pointing a shaking finger at someone behind Lizzie. Lizzie was about to turn around when she heard the voice that had always made her life a living hell.

"How many Lizzies does it take to screw in a light bulb?" asked Kate, striding past them like the prima donna she was, "I dunno, but it only takes one to screw up a graduation."

Lizzie looked helplessly at Miranda and Gordo who seemed equally stricken at having Kate along for the trip. However, there was nothing for it now, because if they were to wait any longer then they'd need wings to get to Rome.

Once in the plane, Miss Ungermeyer went on air again to ensure that everyone knew that she was the boss.

"Seat allotments," she said, eyeing them all sternly, as if daring them to challenge her, "Gordon, Tudgeman, you'll be in those seats on the right, near the window. McGuire, Sanchez, you'll have the seats in the middle in the same row. Since Margaret Chan couldn't make it, the additional seat will remain empty. Sanders…." And she droned on, assigning seats to them all.

"So, you excited about Rome?" Tudgeman asked Gordo, as they settled themselves into their seats.

"I guess," Gordo replied, not really paying attention to Tudgeman, rather looking at his two best friends, who were already engaged in an animated conversation.

Tudgeman followed his gaze and when he realized whom Gordo was looking at, his eyes narrowed. "_What_ did I tell you about Lizzie?" he asked Gordo.

"Hmmm…?" Gordo mumbled still looking at the two, now giggling girls.

"I told you to stay clear of her. She's a heart-breaker," Tudgeman said, waving his hand in front of Gordo's face.

"Yeah, whatever, Tudgeman," Gordo replied, annoyed, as he pulled a book out of his back pack and began to read.

Half an hour after take off, Gordo was wondering if the airhostess would consent to open the door and let him jump off the plane. Tudgeman had treated him to a running monologue on all things Star Trek; including asking Gordo if he thought their plane resembled the USS Enterprise and even going to the extent of referring to Gordo as Spock. There could be no doubt that though Tudgeman looked different; inside he was still very much the same. Gordo called on all his powers of concentration to keep his eyes glued to the book he was reading, so as to drown out Tudgeman's voice. It worked too, and for a few blissful minutes he felt completely alone as he read in peace. But all good things must come to an end, and suddenly, he felt someone shaking his shoulder and calling his name. As his mind readjusted to his surroundings, it struck him as strange that Tudgeman's voice seemed to have acquired a higher timbre than usual.

"What?" he asked irritably, turning around and then his eyebrows shot up, "Lizzie! What… what are you doing in Tudgeman's seat?"

"Miss Ungermeyer thought that Miranda and I were making too much noise with our talking and giggling," Lizzie said, still giggling, incidentally, "So she moved Tudgeman next to Miranda, and I got his seat."

"Oh," Gordo replied, looking around Lizzie and noticing Miranda and Tudgeman deep in conversation, "Well, Miranda doesn't seem to be complaining. Maybe she _is_ interested in all that Star Fleet stuff."

"Yeah maybe. So… watcha reading?" asked Lizzie, making a grab for Gordo' book.

Time passed much faster now, for both Lizzie and Gordo, as they talked, laughed, joked and generally, just spent time together in a way that they hadn't done in quite a while. Indeed they were becoming rather boisterous, and it was only when Miss Ungermeyer threatened to move Lizzie next to Kate, did they lower the decibel level. All too soon, it was bedtime and as the travelers began to unfold their pillows and blankets, so did Lizzie and Gordo. Gordo could rough it when needed and therefore he managed to get himself comfortable enough to sleep. Lizzie, however, had no such luck and she tossed and turned several times, much to Gordo's amusement, before they finally fell asleep.

The first rays of the morning sun that fell on the trans-Atlantic flight to Rome peeked through the windows at the weary travelers who were still fast asleep. The rays fell on Miss Ungermeyer, asleep with her mouth open. Now and then a snore would proceed from that cavernous mouth, followed by a snort not unlike that of an angry bull. In repose, Miss Ungermeyer was not beautiful.

Shuddering, the rays passed on to the seat in front, and fell full on the face of David Gordon. Gordo's first coherent thought, at this rude awakening, was wondering how he was going to get his eyelids unglued. Well, that was his second coherent thought; the first one was a wish that the sun wouldn't rise before 9 a.m. Once he managed to get his eyes open, he gazed around blearily at the other passengers, and his eyes fell on Miranda whose head was resting quite comfortably on Tudgeman's shoulder. Gordo was grinning at the sight, when he became aware that there seemed to be a great weight on his own shoulder, and looked down. He saw a head of straw-blonde hair and perceived that Lizzie had finally found something comfortable to rest on – him.

As he looked down at her face, so completely at peace as she slept, it didn't matter to him that his arm had gone numb, and that he would have pins and needles for hours. All that mattered now was that he had the prettiest girl in the whole world (at least in his opinion) asleep on his shoulder, and it caused his face to split wide with a smile that rivaled the rays that had woken him. Careful not to awaken her, he rested his head next to hers and closed his eyes, feeling that this moment was one that had to be prolonged as much as possible. He didn't notice Miranda crack an eye open and look over at them, and then her mouth curl into a little smile.

Taking into account time differences and other such complicated matters which this narrator does not understand, the sun was on its downward descent when the plane finally touched down in Rome. All the students had crowded near the windows to catch their first glimpses of Rome from the air, and there were several excited shrieks as they descended.

On the trip from the airport to the hotel, the whole group looked out of the bus they were traveling in, their mouths agape with awe, as the many wonders of Rome passed by. Gordo, being the only one to have read the info packet, pointed out several of the places they were to visit and they spent a pleasant few minutes talking about their plans for the time in Rome. As they pulled up in front of the Hotel Cambini, all of them hitched up their jaws, except for Ethan Craft, who had fallen asleep.

"Welcome to the Hotel Cambini," announced Miss Ungermeyer, as they stood in the foyer, "Now lest you think that since there are many of you and less of me and it will therefore be easy to pull anything over on me, think again. In addition to my being smarter, faster and better-looking than most of you, I've also enlisted a little help. The assistant manager of the hotel, Giorgio Averni, was a commander in the Italian Navy, and is there as up on his game as I am mine." Turning to the assistant manager, she said, "Giorgio, would you like to brief my students on the security procedures in the hotel?"

Now Giorgio's had been a sheltered life, at least, as sheltered as can be expected of an assistant manager of a hotel in Rome. Therefore, he had not had the experience of dealing with someone like Miss Ungermeyer. The question put forward by Miss Ungermeyer completely stumped him, and since he could come up with no definite answer, he settled on a happy mean.

"We serve at 5, the cookies," he told Miss Ungermeyer, very seriously.

That this was not the answer she expected was quite evident from Miss Ungermeyer's expression, and Gordo almost bet Lizzie five dollars that Miss Ungermeyer was going to give Giorgio detention. With a great effort, Miss Ungermeyer seemed to resist the temptation to do just that, and sticking on half-hearted smile, she turned to the group.

"You heard the man," she said, though it was abundantly clear that she wished they hadn't, "Room assignments. David Gordon you'll be rooming with Ethan Craft. You'll be in room 103…"

"Are those English or Italian numbers?" asked Ethan, sprawled out on a couch.

Miss Ungermeyer didn't roll her eyes at this, though she dearly wanted to. Gordo had no such compunctions; he rolled his eyes like nobody's business.

"You got a problem with that, Gordon?" asked Miss Ungermeyer, throwing Gordo the room keys.

"No ma'am. Any room is just fine with me," Gordo replied, having another go at the old oil and butter.

"You know," said Miss Ungermeyer pensively, "Being a spineless little jellyfish is as unattractive as being a brown-noser."

Gordo sighed as Lizzie and Miranda shot him sympathetic looks. Being one eighth Scottish, one wonders if Gordo was familiar with the Scottish poet Burns who once wrote, '_The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, gang aft agley_'. What 'agley' could possibly mean, I do not know, but you get the gist of the phrase. And it fit Gordo singularly well at the moment. Agley was exactly where his well laid plans of getting on Miss Ungermeyer's good side, had ganged.

"McGuire," Miss Ungermeyer called, "Since Margaret Chan isn't here, you'll be rooming with…"

_I am not, under any circumstances, sharing a room with…_, yelled the voice in Lizzie head.

"Kate Sanders," Miss Ungermeyer finished.

_AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH_, Lizzie wanted to scream, but she couldn't, so she screamed in her mind. Miss Ungermeyer went along allotting rooms for everyone else, but Lizzie wasn't listening. Her mind was taken up with envisioning the horror of having to room with Kate.

If there had been the slightest hope that things wouldn't be as bad as she feared, it was crushed as soon as they began to settle into their room.

"I'll be taking the bed by the window. You don't mind, do you?" Kate asked Lizzie, in a voice that clearly said, '_You'd better not_'.

_Uhhhh, YYYYYEEEEEESSSSSSSS_, Lizzie wanted, with all her might, to yell, but instead she just shook her head.

"Gordo and me should start the Spineless Jellyfish Club," Lizzie muttered to herself.

"What was that?" Kate asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Lizzie said quickly.

Kate looked at her with narrowed eyes for a moment, and then to Lizzie's great surprise, Kate assumed an expression dripping with compassion and understanding.

"Lizzie, seeing that we're roomies and we're going to be spending all this time together, I just wanted to let you know, I understand that you wanna put all that really embarrassing stuff behind you and just move on and have a fresh start," Kate said, every word dripping with saccharine sweetness.

"You do?" asked Lizzie dazedly, wondering if she had heard right.

"I understand your dream. It's a big dream, it's a huge dream, and you can't do it alone. In fact, I don't think you can do at all, let it go," she finished, and swept out of the room.

Lizzie groaned; it had been too good to be true. Kate becoming best friends with her again, would require them to travel to an alternate dimension. Just then, Gordo came barreling up the corridor and frantically gestured for her to follow him. Wondering what had got Gordo all excited, she emerged into the corridor in time to see Miranda come up as well, grumbling all the while.

"Gordo, what…" Lizzie asked surprised as Gordo grabbed her arm and began pulling her up a flight of stairs.

"I have something to show you," he replied mysteriously. Lizzie looked around at Miranda, who shrugged.

"He nearly dragged me out of my room but he wouldn't tell me what he wanted," she told Lizzie.

They reached the top of the stairs and Gordo pushed open the door and they stepped out on to the roof of the Hotel Cambini. Lizzie and Miranda gasped as Gordo spread out his hands and said '_Voila_'.

It was the most fantastic sight that any of them had seen. The dying sun's rays were caressing the roofs and spires of the eternal city, bathing it in a golden glow, and giving it an ethereal feel. As a light breeze blew threw their hair, the three friends leant on the parapet wall and drank in the feeling of being at peace with the world and standing on the cusp of a new and exciting life.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Gordo murmured gazing out at the city rapturously. Lizzie and Miranda didn't reply, simply because there were no words that could describe the way they were feeling at that moment.

"You know what; I'm not going to let Kate Sanders get to me," Lizzie said, after they had stood there a while, "Promise me something…"

"Anything," said Gordo.

"Promise me that when we're here, we'll find adventures. I mean, this is our chance to start over, do anything we want to do," Lizzie continued.

"Yeah, you're right. All of us, adventure… deal," Miranda put in, smiling.

And the three of them bumped fists to seal the pact, and then they went back to standing together in silence, looking out over the city of Rome. None of them could have known just how much adventure they were about to have.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I realized that I had forgotten to add a disclaimer to the previous chapter, so here it is both chapters 2 and 3. Disney owns the Lizzie McGuire show, The Lizzie McGuire movie, the characters, the plot and some of the dialogue. If I had owned any of it, I wouldn't be writing this; I would have made it into a movie.

A/N: I am so sorry that I took so long over this chapter. I've been buried under mounds of work, and then my computer gave up on me. Things are back to normal now, and hopefully I should have the next few chapters up quite quickly. I'd also like to thank all those who left their wonderful reviews, it was the encouragement I needed. And now without further ado, I present to you chapter 3…

**Enter the tall, dark and handsome stranger**

The next morning, their first full day in Rome, saw them gazing in awe at the visually stunning Trevi fountain, as Miss Ungermeyer gave them the guff on the history behind the fountain itself, which wasn't really gripping the class. Most of them had read the bit about it being lucky to throw a coin into the fountain, and so the treasure at the bottom of the fountain had been considerably increased with the addition of several lire (and a nickel, courtesy Ethan Craft, who couldn't tell the difference).

Miranda had been one of the first to throw in a coin, though as Gordo pointed out; it wasn't likely to bring her much luck as she hadn't thrown it over her right shoulder, and she had hit Neptune with her coin, which was unlikely to make him feel very benevolent towards her. As Lizzie was rummaging through her purse for a coin to throw in, Miss Ungermeyer noticed this reckless scattering of wealth and felt that she had to put a stop to it.

"Many believe that to throw a coin into the fountain is to bring on good luck. Let me tell you, those people are suckers," she said, disdain in every word, "You've gotta make your own luck in this world.

That served as a dampener on the spirits of the touring party, and thus, many lire were saved from a dunking in the fountain. Rome had, however, brought out a rebellious streak in Lizzie and she was determined to go against Miss Ungermeyer, at least once. It did help that Miss Ungermeyer was, at that moment, engaged in preventing Ethan from landing himself in the fountain, and at the same time negating Kate's attempted sneak away to the nearby shops, and she was therefore not in a position to observe Lizzie's show of defiance.

"Forget what she says," Lizzie stated, and she handed a coin to Gordo, "Make a wish."

"Yeah Gordo, go on, make a wish," Miranda nudged him from the other side, winking knowingly at him.

"I'm in Rome with my best friends. I'm good," Gordo replied diplomatically, and he gave the coin back to Lizzie, "You make one."

Miranda rolled her eyes at this latest display of mutton-headedness by Gordo. Lizzie, in the meantime, thought for a moment, and then threw the coin using the proper technique, with her right hand over her right shoulder.

The speed at which a particular person's wish is fulfilled varies considerably. Most often it will take so long, that by the time it is fulfilled, the person forgets what he or she wished for in the first place. But on some rare occasions, it can reach fruition at a speed that takes one's breath away. And sometimes, one may find that, though they do not get what they wished for, what they do get is good enough to be going on with.

When Lizzie threw the coin in, and then opened her eyes, she found herself the object of an intense scrutiny by a stranger, who seemed to have been built according to the specifications of romance novelists around the world.

"Isabella?" asked the Adonis, setting the seal on Lizzie's confusion and bringing with it a hint of disappointment. The guy had been staring at her as if he had he finally found his soul-mate, and then had proceeded to call her someone else's name.

"Huh?" asked Lizzie, intending to convey that she was definitely not abreast of this rush of events.

The man collected himself and smiled. "I'm sorry but you look an awful lot like a friend of mine," he explained. He seemed to be about to throw more light on his strange behaviour, when a giant materialized next to him, and informed him that they had to leave for a photo-shoot. At the same moment, Gordo caught sight of the rest of their party moving off without them, and he urgently whispered to Lizzie, "We need to get going."

It proved to be rather more difficult to get Miranda to agree to leaving, as she was frantically searching for another coin to throw in. "I'm not leaving until I get a guy like that," she stated firmly, and it took all of Gordo and Lizzie's strength to drag her away.

Miss Ungermeyer, showing an unusual respect for the well-being of the students, had decided to take a short break to allow the party to refresh itself with some Italian ice-cream before they headed over to the next monument. She went further to remind them that Italian ice-creams have twice the sugar as American ice-creams, which made the group that much more eager to get at them. Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda lagged behind the rest, just taking in the sights and sounds of Rome, when they were arrested by one particular sight, that of the same guy from the fountain following them, with his pet giant in tow. When he saw them looking at him, he seemed to recollect his manners and walked up to them, smiling widely.

"Excuse me," he began, "I don't mean to bother you. I'm Paolo, Paolo Valisarri."

"Oh, I'm Lizzie McGuire and this is Gordo and Miranda," Lizzie introduced them, as Gordo waved and Miranda blushed at him.

Paolo nodded to them in turn, then gesturing to the incredible hulk standing behind him he said, "This is my friend Sergei. Sergei, doesn't she look exactly like…"

He was interrupted by an excited scream, and there was sudden rush towards them. Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda instinctively took a step back, wondering if they had unconsciously violated some Italian code of ethics to cause this sudden attack by a mob of young men and women yelling "Isabella, Isabella!"

The next few moments were the strangest in Lizzie's life, and though she had had some strange experiences before, this one took the cake. The group of young people, who had rushed them, proceeded to fawn on her, repeatedly calling her Isabella, and taking photographs of her. If that weren't confusing enough, a lady handed her a large chunk of cheese talking in rapid Italian, which left Lizzie completely fogged, as to what the lady meant. When Lizzie finally managed to disentangle her tongue for the roof of her mouth, she found utterance.

"What was all that about?" she queried frantically. Before Paolo could answer, Gordo nudged her and pointed upwards. Lizzie and Miranda followed the line of his finger and then their eyes widened in shock.

Up in the skies, above them, loomed a massive billboard with an image of this Paolo Valissari and a brunette. That in itself was not cause for surprise except for the fact that the brunette was the spitting image of Lizzie.

"Wow," was all Lizzie could say, once she had managed to hitch up her jaw that had dropped earthwards.

"She looks exactly like you. Except for the hair, you could be her twin," Miranda stated, quite unnecessarily as this fact had not escaped anyone's notice.

"Did you have a twin that your parents forgot to tell you about?" asked Gordo, looking dazed. Lizzie did not answer, and she couldn't have even if she had wanted to. Knowing that one looks exactly like a famous singing sensation is something few people experience and she, for one, had no idea how one reacted to such startling news.

"Isabella is my singing partner," Paolo explained, "And you're like her sister, like… two pods in a pea."

That snapped Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda out of their trance and they all giggled at Paolo's f_aux pas_. They were, however, still rather dazed. Luckily for them, they were all saved the need to think of something to say to break the awkward silence, thanks to a yell from inside.

"Gordon, McGuire, Sanchez, did you not hear me say 'head check'?" Miss Ungermeyer huffed. "Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… who are you?" she asked, catching sight of Paolo.

Blissfully unaware that the woman he faced was the sort from whom Jezebel and Lady Macbeth could have taken lessons, Paolo flashed his dazzling smile and said, "I'm Paolo Valissari, pleased to meet you."

Miss Ungermeyer fixed him with an eye like a gimlet, then turning to Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda, said, "Keep your money in your front pockets," showing once again, the rather unfortunate, but all too common, mistrust that aliens have for their hosts. Having had her say, Miss Ungermeyer vanished into the confines of the shop, presumably to imbibe the heavily sweetened ice creams that they proudly sold.

"She makes me very scared," Paolo said, looking shaken. He had faced mobs of screaming fans and demanding music directors, but like Giorgio before him, he had never been hit by the force that was Miss Ungermeyer. It made him feel quite faint.

"Join the club," Gordo remarked dryly.

With an effort, Paolo managed to put aside the overpowering effect of Miss Ungermeyer and he spoke once again. "Lizzie can I see you again, maybe tomorrow? Please?" he pleaded.

_He wants to see me again? Did he just say he wants to see me again? What's the word for yes in Italian? Ah, Si_, Lizzie thought, wondering if she had heard right. Then, she looked around at Miranda and Gordo, and though it tore her up inside, she said what she had to.

"No, I'm…," she began regretfully.

"It's ok. I can cover for you," Gordo said surprisingly, causing Miranda's jaw to drop for the second time in five minutes. Gordo glared at her, and she quickly shut her mouth.

"Erm… yeah, you should go," Miranda said too, casting an uncertain glance at Gordo.

"I'm sorry, but I'm here with my school so I can't," Lizzie said firmly.

"Forgive me if I embarrass you, but it's just that some people when they come to Rome, they want to find adventure," Paolo said, clearly implying that those who didn't were missing something special.

This had the effect of silencing Lizzie, since it was the same notion that she'd had. "No, it's ok. I've got some cool cheese," she said finally, causing Gordo and Miranda to blink.

"Did she just say 'cool cheese'?" Miranda whispered to Gordo, who merely nodded in wonder.

_Did I just say 'cool cheese'?_, Lizzie thought to herself, feeling that perhaps she need to go back to the Trevi fountain, and wish to be able to think before she spoke.

Sergei, the man-giant, broke into this dead-lock, informing Paolo once again that they had to go. Paolo nodded and then turning to Lizzie, he said, "Lizzie, if you change your mind, I will meet you at the Trevi fountain at 9 o'clock."

Unsure of what to do, Lizzie turned to follow Gordo and Miranda who had already entered the shop, when Paolo addressed her in Italian.

"What does that mean?" Lizzie inquired, finding herself falling in love with the Italian language when spoken by good-looking Italian guys.

"We will see each other," he replied, and then, in the great European tradition, he kissed Lizzie's hand and walked away. Lizzie watched his retreating back, unaware that Gordo and Miranda had also witnessed the last exchange. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, though they had no way of knowing that all their thoughts were interconnected.

Later that day, after cramming as much culture into their heads as possible, they returned to the hotel. Lizzie had managed to get her hands on a Paolo and Isabella CD and was listening to it. Miranda was refreshing herself with a nice cold drink. Gordo was seated in the restaurant of the Hotel Cambini and he was… well, he was being himself and was writing a précis on all the monuments they had visited that day.

Shortly, he was joined by the two girls who sat down on either side of him. Miranda rolled her eyes when she saw what he was up to. Lizzie, however, didn't notice.

"Hey! You know this Paolo and Isabella CD isn't so bad," she remarked to Gordo and Miranda, "I mean if you're into the Alanis Morissette-y alternative, dark, like brooding, I-never-go-out-into-the-sunshine-and-my-life's-a-miserable-black-hole-of-depression kinda thing, then you'd think they stink. But I mean for a like driving-around-in-the-car-with-the-top-down-putting-on-your-lip-gloss-loving-life kinda thing, they're good! Here, listen..."

Gordo and Miranda leaned in to listen to the strains of a ballad that they could hear emanating from the Lizzie head-phones.

"Not bad," was Miranda's opinion.

Gordo didn't answer immediately due to the fact that Miranda's jostling him had caused him to nearly break his nose on the top of Lizzie's head. He had barely managed to avoid a nasty injury and had inhaled deeply. The smell that had risen up his nostrils at that moment, had momentarily unmanned him.

It is necessary at this point to digress for a few moments, and take a closer look at the mind of David Zephyr Gordon. Gordo had always prided himself on being in control of every situation. Even people like Ethan and Kate, who felt that Gordo was probably on the lowest rung of the social ladder, grudgingly respected the fact that he was one of a kind, and that in many ways; he was miles ahead of them. He did well in school, and usually tied with Larry Tudgeman to be top of the class. He had a certain sophistication about him, and his maturity was greater than is expected from one of his age. But even great men have their weaknesses; every Napoleon has his Waterloo. So did David Gordon. His best friend, Lizzie McGuire, for whom he had secretly harbored deeper feelings for quite a while, was his weakness. And so Gordo, the one who prided himself on always knowing the right thing to say, now faltered and proceeded to firmly put his foot in his mouth.

"You use scented soap, huh?" Gordo said, dreamily looking at the opposite wall.

Miranda almost spilt her drink all over Gordo's notes, while Lizzie nearly got whiplash in trying to turn her head around to look at Gordo.

"What?" she asked, looking at Gordo inquiringly.

"Uh… n-never mind," Gordo said, sitting back down very quickly and averting his face to hide the colour that was rising up in his cheeks.

Lizzie giggled uncertainly and became very interested in adjusting her hair. Miranda, on the other hand, leaned across and whispered in Gordo's ear, "Smooth move, Casanova."

"Shut up," Gordo whispered back angrily, wishing that he wasn't blushing so furiously.

"So anyway, Paolo wants to meet me at the Trevi fountain tomorrow morning at nine," Lizzie told the other two. Miranda nodded, and then her eyes nearly popped out of her head when Gordo spoke up.

"So go," he said.

"What?" The one word exploded from both Lizzie and Miranda's mouths and collided in mid-air.

"I can't go. That would mean I would have to sneak away from the group," Lizzie said.

"So?"

"So I'm like physically incapable of sneaking," Lizzie explained impatiently.

"Lizzie, weren't you the one who said we were going to have adventures on this trip?" Gordo reminded her.

"Yeah, Gordo, we… we would look for adventure," Lizzie replied, trying to drive home her point that she did not wish to abandon her friends.

"And we will. It just so happens that you have dibs on the first one," Gordo said, inwardly wondering why, in the name of all things wonderful, he was encouraging her.

"Well, ok," Lizzie agreed slowly, "Just as long as we don't do anything that would get us tossed on a plane by Miss Ungermeyer."

It is to be noticed that Miranda had played no part in the previous exchange. The reason was that she was listening to her two best friends talking, and she was getting more and more surprised. She couldn't understand why Gordo was trying to encourage this rather foolhardy venture. She knew that Gordo thought of Lizzie as more than a friend. She had noticed it ever since the Ronnie incident, realizing for the first time, that Gordo was actually jealous of Lizzie's boyfriend. Yet, even though Ronnie Jacobs had shown his true colours and had dumped Lizzie, Gordo had held back. He hadn't told Lizzie how he felt, though it seemed that he had been on the verge of doing so several times. And now, he was encouraging Lizzie to meet an attractive Italian boy.

And then it hit her; Gordo was being, what some would call 'noble'. Miranda, being the sort of girl who called a spade a spade, thought he was being an idiot; and her estimation was probably closer to the truth. Slowly, she shook her head, trying to clear it of these rather heavy thoughts that she'd been thinking and was surprised to see Gordo put a hand to Lizzie's forehead.

"Lizzie, are you feeling ok?" she heard him ask.

"Why? What's wrong with her?" Miranda asked with concern.

"You seem to be sick," Gordo said, smirking at Lizzie. And realization dawned on the girls; he was giving Lizzie a way to get out of the trip. Little did Gordo know that his well meant intentions would end up having such far-reaching consequences.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Disney owns the Lizzie McGuire show, The Lizzie McGuire movie, the characters, the plot and some of the dialogue. If I had owned any of it, I wouldn't be writing this; I would have made it into a movie.

**When in Rome, do as the Romans do**

So the next morning, Lizzie was to be observed lying in bed, tightly cocooned in several sheets, with only her head sticking out, looking like a tortoise timidly checking its surroundings after a sudden shower. Miss Ungermeyer was standing by her bed with a decidedly skeptical look on her face. Next to her stood the doctor who was, at present, attempting to gauge Lizzie's health by placing his hand on her forehead. Seemingly unconvinced, he produced a pencil torch from the recesses of his coat and proceeded to shine it alternately into Lizzie's eyes. However, other than blinding her, it did not serve any useful purpose either. Miss Ungermeyer, who had been watching the doctor's antics with growing contempt, now grabbed his arm and addressed him curtly.

"Is this girl sick or isn't she?" she inquired in that direct, no-nonsense manner, that characterizes principals all over the world.

The doctor hastily stowed his torch away and proceeded to give his evaluation. "She does not have a fever, and yet she is in bed" he began, "Ask yourself, why a beautiful young girl on her first visit to Rome – the city of adventure – wants to lie in bed all day?"

Both Miss Ungermeyer and Lizzie looked at him blankly, as if he had just asked them why the chicken had crossed the road. The doctor proceeded to explain himself. "Because she is ill," he finished, much as one would do when saying that the chicken had wished to get to the other side.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, while Miss Ungermeyer tried to get to the bottom of this mysterious affliction that had beset her charge. "You know, I heard that she fell down at her graduation and made a complete fool of herself. Do you think that could have something to do with this?" she asked, trying to remember what she'd read in her copy of the Medical Desk Reference.

"Oh yes," chuckled the doctor, "I saw that on CNN."

_CNN! Oh great, now I'm officially dead_, Lizzie thought, burrowing deeper within the sheets.

"Often the nervous system collapses after that kind of utter humiliation," explained the doctor, looking at Lizzie sympathetically.

"Do you… have any recommendations?" Miss Ungermeyer asked the doctor, who seemed to be lost in the memory of what he had seen on CNN.

"Oh yes," he said, quickly returning to the task at hand, and scribbling hard in his notebook, "This young woman should stay in bed. She should also eat two apricots."

This surprised both Lizzie and Miss Ungermeyer, who had never heard of apricots as a cure for any malady. "Is that for her digestion?" ventured Miss Ungermeyer, guessing wildly.

"No, they're in season. They're very delicious," the doctor replied, briskly handing the note to the incredulous Miss Ungermeyer and then turning to Lizzie he said, "Feel better, signorina McGuire." And with a dazzling smile, he picked up his black bag, a must for every doctor, and went on his way.

Miss Ungermeyer did not see him go. She was still staring at the piece of paper in her hand. The doctor had just reinforced her belief that she was surrounded by lunatics. Giving herself a little shake, she looked at Lizzie and said, "Rest up, McGuire. You wouldn't want to miss out on all the adventures of Rome." She still didn't seem completely convinced, but – though critical of the doctor's credentials – she had accepted his advice and had decided to leave Lizzie behind, at least for that day. She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.

The moment Miss Ungermeyer left, Lizzie threw off her sheets revealing the fact that she was, in fact, completely dressed for a day out. Under cover of the sheets it had been swelteringly hot, and she was glad that the doctor hadn't taken longer, else she might have melted. Picking up her purse and a map of Rome, she quietly headed out and made her way towards the Trevi fountain.

Successfully navigating her way through the busy streets of Rome, Lizzie found herself back at the scene of the previous day's adventures. Lizzie fought her way through the crowd surrounding the fountain, searching for Paolo. She finally found him near the edge of the fountain. He was teaching some children the correct procedure for pitching coins into the fountain. So engrossed was he in instructing the children that he did not notice Lizzie approaching. Lizzie stood and watched him a while till he suddenly looked up and saw her watching him. Smiling bashfully, he explained, "I… I just… I asked them all to wish that you would come."

_Aaaaaaawwwwwwwwww_, went the voice in Lizzie head, feeling herself falling for this Italian singer.

Unfortunately, her rational side had to spoil things by speaking. "I don't have much time, you know my chaperone, Miss Ungermeyer…" she said quickly, perhaps attempting to assuage the feelings of guilt that were stabbing at her for abandoning Miranda and Gordo.

Paolo, however seemed unfazed by this, and he took her hand. "Come," he said, "I have something to show you." And he guided her through the swirling mass of humanity surrounding the fountain. Lizzie followed him to one of the side roads that led away from the Trevi fountain. Then, with the air of a conjurer producing a rabbit out of hat, he showed her a motor scooter, a Vespa, parked there.

"I just thought that you should see Rome the way Romans do," Paolo said, noting her stunned reaction.

Lizzie shut her gaping mouth, but she was still surprised. She had never driven on a motorized two-wheeler before and this promised to be quite an experience. But when she remembered that it was Paolo who would be driving, she was strong again. She gladly took the helmet he gave her, and putting it on, she got onto the scooter. And once again, her rational side took over momentarily. "Um… are you sure you can drive this thing?" she asked cautiously.

"This is Rome, no one knows how to drive," Paolo replied with a laugh. This fact, of course, is not only restricted to Rome, but can be applied to almost any city in the world. And it did nothing to soothe Lizzie fluttering nerves. Silently, she commended her soul to God, as the Vespa growled to life and carried them away into the teeming roads of Rome.

As commonly observed, the first time a person rides on a two-wheeler, is an experience that they will never forget. It produces a sense of euphoria, of freedom; of feeling that God's in his heaven and all's right with the world. And Lizzie was no exception. After five minutes on the Vespa, it would have required wild horses to drag her away from it.

Meanwhile, back in America, Matt had invited Melina over to his house. Once she had come over, he had, at least partially, regretted his decision. Melina had insisted on roasting him for throwing away the tape of Lizzie's graduation, instead of milking it completely. Attempting to regain some ground, Matt tried to look on the bright side.

"I don't know what's catastrophe is going to happen in Rome," he said, "But with Lizzie there, I'm sure something will."

"And what, precisely, are you going to do with that information?" Melina asked disdainfully, "Just give it away like you did with the graduation video?"

"Hey, she was pretty freaked out by that," Matt stated defensively.

"And you have what to show for it?" Melina asked, putting her finger on the flaw in his scheme.

"The pride of a job well done," Matt said carefully, knowing that this was the wrong thing to say but saying it anyway.

"Try buying a PS2 with the pride of a job well done" Melina said scornfully, "Matt, Matt, Matt…we've been over this before. Cash up front." The next moment, she had pasted on a sickeningly sweet smile as the door opened to reveal Mrs. McGuire.

"Melina, are you staying for dinner?" she asked.

"I'd love to, Mrs. McGuire," Melina replied, her voice dripping with that same cloying sweetness, "We'll need extra energy to work on our summer reading list."

"Well, then in that case, I'll make some brownies," Jo said, feeling that Melina could be a good influence on Matt after all.

Once she left, however, Melina turned on Matt, like a tigress on an erring cub. "I've said it before, you're weak, weak. Don't do anything without consulting me first," she growled in his face, and then turned away disappointed.

Matt who'd almost fallen out of his chair, could only gaze at her much as he had gazed at Miss Ungermeyer. "You are so cool," he observed, in an awe-struck voice.

The only thing that kept their jaunt around Rome from being a perfect outing was the fact that Lizzie could observe a black Mercedes following them wherever they went. At first, she had attempted to ignore it, but as they cruised through the streets of Rome, it became increasingly apparent that the car was, indeed, following them. And what was even more surprising was that it was being driven by the strong and silent Sergei. Perplexed by Sergei's "sticketh closer than a brother" attitude, Lizzie resolved to ask Paolo about it. She got the chance to do so, when their way was barred through one of the narrower streets by a truck full of produce. The truck was wedged in lengthways on the street in which, by rights, it shouldn't even have been allowed in. It did, however, allow for some conversation after the silently exhilarating trip around Rome.

"Paolo, can I ask you a question?" said Lizzie, already doing so.

"Si," Paolo replied courteously.

"I know our lives are a little different," Lizzie began, and then corrected herself, "Actually they're several universes different. But… doesn't your friend Sergei ever get tired of following us around everywhere?"

"Actually Sergei's my bodyguard," Paolo clarified, "So you see, between me and Sergei, you'll always be safe."

Lizzie felt winded; not only was Paolo a pop sensation, he even had a bodyguard. _Wow, how famous do you have to be before you need a bodyguard_, Lizzie wondered. She couldn't, of course, ask such a question, but it was one that she pondered on quite a bit. Turning around, she saw Sergei regarding them impassively so she waved brightly at him, but he still continued his impression of having been stuffed by some good taxidermist. And in that moment, she happened to look up and her face became a mask of horror.

A few moments earlier, the tour bus, containing several students who had had enough culture to last them several lifetimes, was winding its way towards the next monument. Miranda was one of the few students who did not have the look, of being about to sink into a stupor, that was common to the rest of the group. She was looking, half-amused and half-perplexed, at Gordo. Gordo, fearing that he was about to be drawn into a conversation he didn't want, had buried his nose in his info packet, thereby studiously avoiding Miranda's gaze. Miranda let him be for a while, but her curiosity got the better of her eventually.

"You can't hide behind there forever, you know," she said, nonchalantly looking out of the window.

"Who's hiding?" Gordo asked without looking up.

"Hey look, there's Lizzie," Miranda exclaimed suddenly, pointing out of the window.

"Where, where?" Gordo demanded, all agog, info packet forgotten, as his eyes scanned the Roman streets around for Lizzie. It was only when he caught the wide grin on Miranda's face that he realized that he'd been had. Miranda was quick enough this time to head him off before he disappeared behind his info packet again, by removing it from his hands.

"Hey! I'm not finished with that," Gordo protested weakly, knowing full well that it was not going to get him anywhere.

"Why did you do it?" Miranda asked him, pretending not to have heard his protestations.

"Do what?" Gordo asked evasively, wishing fervently that they'd reach the next monument soon so that he could avoid this line of questioning.

"Tell Lizzie to go out with that Paolo guy," Miranda replied, her eyes boring uncomfortably into the side of Gordo's head.

Gordo sighed; this was something he didn't want to answer, since it was something that he had been kicking himself for ever since he'd made the suggestion. On the other hand, he had no intention of letting Miranda know that he was, indeed, very jealous. In this regard, he exhibited the characteristics of men around the world who pride themselves on their iron inscrutability, but whose love lives are an open book, since they wear their hearts on their sleeves.

"Well, she wanted to; and… I thought that she deserved to have some adventure," Gordo answered after a pause.

"And, what about you?" Miranda asked in her direct way.

"What about me?" Gordo asked in turn, now completely mystified.

"You like Lizzie, don't you?" Miranda asked, but this time her voice was gentle rather than accusatory. Gordo, for his part, gave a convulsive leap, and felt as if his heart had shot up his throat and crashed against his teeth. He gulped hard trying to return it to its rightful place, while his mind worked feverishly on what would be the best way to rebut this statement.

"Never mind, don't answer that," Miranda continued with a smirk, "What I don't understand is, why you just stand back and let her go out with other guys? You even seem to encourage… what's the matter?" The abrupt change in topic was brought on due to a look of complete astonishment followed by horror, which had fixed itself on Gordo's face. Gordo didn't answer, he just pointed straight ahead. Miranda followed his gaze, and then her eyebrows shot up, and she put a hand to her mouth.

The tour bus had got stuck in a narrow alleyway behind a black Mercedes, which in turn was behind a motor scooter, which had Lizzie astride it. She was in plain view of Miss Ungermeyer, who was seated at the front of the bus. Any moment now, Miss Ungermeyer might recognize the blonde as one of her students who was supposed to be resting in bed, instead of riding around Rome in scooters.

"What do we do?" Miranda asked breathlessly, obviously at a loss for constructive ideas.

"I'll see what I can do," Gordo said, getting up and making his way to the front of the bus. Miranda watched him go with surprise, and not a little apprehension.

"Excuse me, Miss Ungermeyer; didn't we just pass the Casale San Antro?" Gordo asked when he was right next to the Ungermeyer, and stealing a glance to see if Lizzie and Paolo were gone yet.

"Yup. What about it?" Miss Ungermeyer answered disinterestedly.

"Well, I notice that it's not on the itinerary," Gordo said, stalling as much as he could, while Miranda prayed that Lizzie would hurry up and get out of there.

"That is correct," Miss Ungermeyer replied, her manner clearly stating that it wasn't causing her to lose any sleep.

"Shouldn't it be?" Gordo persisted, "I mean, it was a papal residence and it does contain frescoes from artists influenced by the school of Raphael."

This time Miss Ungermeyer did turn and doing so she studied Gordo's face carefully. "What are you up to, Gordon?" she asked, feeling suspicious of this sudden thirst for knowledge.

"N-nothing," Gordo stammered, "I just figured that while in Rome we should be exposed to as much Renaissance Raphaelite work, typified by Hellenic mythical imagery, as humanly possible " This statement caused the rest of the students to shoot looks of pure hatred towards Gordo, while Miss Ungermeyer looked, if possible, even more suspicious. Luckily, at that moment, the truck, which was causing all this unpleasantness, moved enough to let the scooter through. Paolo took the opportunity and gunned the engine, roaring away and putting as much distance between them and the tour bus, as possible. Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Aaahh Gordon, you are on 'The List'," Miss Ungermeyer stated finally, "And 'The List' is not a place you want to be." Disappointed, Gordo returned to his seat as Miss Ungermeyer, suddenly waking up to the fact that they had been stuck for quite a while, got off to speed things along. Miranda hadn't failed to notice Gordo's dejection. _Oh Lizzie, how can you be so blind_, she wondered, as the bus moved on to their next destination.

Unbeknownst to them both, another person had been privy to the aforementioned slab of conversation. Larry Tudgeman, like Gordo, was one of the few who had managed to retain a measure of interest in their tour. And since he had been seated right behind Gordo and Miranda, he had heard every word that had been uttered. He had also seen Lizzie on the scooter, a fact that had surprised him to no small extent. Quietly, he resolved to find out more about this rather interesting turn of events.

After the rather close shave with the tour bus, Paolo wisely decided that it might be better to cease the wandering on the scooter and so he parked and led Lizzie to a quaint roadside café nearby. As the searched for a table, he filled her in on the history of the area, which was as enthralling as it was gruesome. However, Lizzie's interest in artists, like Caravaggio, wasn't as deep as Gordo's, and therefore waiting till Paolo ceased his commentary, she asked him about something that had vexed her the whole morning. "Paolo, can I ask you something?" she said slowly.

"Si," Paolo replied.

"Do you still love her?" Lizzie asked, hoping that it did not offend.

"Who, Isabella?" Paolo asked, seeming slightly taken aback.

"Si," Lizzie answered, drawing on her two-word Italian vocabulary.

"Of course I still love her," Paolo answered lightly, causing Lizzie's face to fall. "But like a sister," he continued, and Lizzie perked up immediately, like a drooping flower after the rain.

"So… why did you break up?" she asked, more to reassure herself that they were indeed broken up, than with any other intent.

"It is…" Paolo began, searching for the right words to explain himself, "complicated." So saying, he turned away, ostensibly, to avoid talking about a sore subject.

"What?" Lizzie pressed, feeling that she needed to know more about this.

"I mean, yes, we were voted the 'Best Pop Duo of the Year' _again_," Paolo continued with a sigh, "But I wanted to do more serious music. And when I told this to Isabella, she said flat out 'No'. So I was forced to tell her that that this is it, this will be our last gig together," he finished sounding aggrieved by the whole sordid affair.

"What happened? Did she freak out?" Lizzie asked, looking stunned by the callousness of this woman who looked so much like her.

"She totally freaked out," Paolo answered, as they finally found themselves a table, "And yes, I feel awful about that. But, what about me? I need to grow as an artist, you know."

"Yeah, absolutely," Lizzie affirmed.

"So the other day when I saw you, I just… I don't know, I had this crazy… I just… Oh, I don't know," Paolo stuttered, unable to find the right words.

"What?" Lizzie asked, thoroughly intrigued by his mysterious manner.

"I had this crazy idea that maybe you could help me," Paolo finished, seemingly ashamed for having even brought up the subject, as he seated himself.

_Help you? Of course, I'd do anything to help you_, the voice in Lizzie's head wanted to shout.

"Come on, how crazy could it be? Just tell me," Lizzie pleaded, sitting down as well.

"No, no I can't. It's too… it's too…," Paolo said, throwing up his hands in front of him.

Lizzie coaxed him a little more, since she wanted to help him so as to get in good with him.

"Oh all right," Paolo said reluctantly, as if Lizzie had forced it out of him, "Isabella and I are supposed to present an award together at the International Music Video Awards."

"Cool," Lizzie burst out, but she quickly controlled her enthusiasm, "I mean, cool for regular people like me, but for you, I guess, it must be like… work."

"Oh no," Paolo hastened to assure her, "It is cool for me too, because I get free gift passes and stuff. But now because Isabella is so mad at me she is refusing to appear. The record company is threatening to sue her if she doesn't show up."

"And, what about you?" asked Lizzie, looking completely aghast.

"For me, it is no problem," Paolo replied confidently, "I write the music." He looked away into the middle distance before continuing, "I don't know where it comes from. It just comes from… me. La la la la, see. So I can go solo."

Then he leaned forward and gestured for Lizzie to do the same. When she had done so, he whispered, "But Isabella, she needs the help to sing."

"You mean Isabella lip-synchs?" Lizzie asked, absolutely shocked, and completely forgetting to lower her voice. Paolo shushed her desperately, as a few people at neighbouring tables looked up with interest.

"You must promise me that you will speak of this to no one," he whispered to her, "Imagine what would happen to Isabella's career."

"Ohhh, that's so sweet, you still care about her," Lizzie said, feeling that this was even more proof of the purity of his soul. "You're definitely broken up, right?" she asked, just to make sure it was so.

"Si," Paolo replied, and Lizzie could breathe easily again.

"So when I saw you yesterday," Paolo said, returning once more to the crux, "And I saw how all those people thought you were Isabella, I got this crazy idea that perhaps you could pretend to be Isabella for one night, and present the award with me on stage."

"Present an award?" Lizzie gasped, feeling a sense of déjà vu, "On stage? In front of an audience?"

"No, they decided to hold the IMVAs in an empty stadium this year," Paolo answered dryly.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Look, I can understand your being nervous before going on stage. I feel nervous too. It is normal," Paolo consoled her.

"But… I'm really not good in front of crowds. I could never do that," Lizzie stuttered, the memories of past horrors making her quake in her boots.

"Of course you can do it. You are magnifico," Paolo reassured her.

_Wow, he thinks I'm magnifico. I don't know Italian, but I know what that means_, the voice in her head perked up. Unfortunately, the outer Lizzie still had her doubts.

"I don't know, Paolo," she said regretfully, "I don't think I can do it."

"It's alright," Paolo said sadly, "I could never ask you to do this crazy thing." And with the same hang-dog look, he turned his gaze out across the square. Lizzie couldn't help but feel guilty looking at his crestfallen expression. Taking a deep breath, she came to a decision.

"No, you know what. You don't have to ask," Lizzie said, and then she took another deep breath to calm herself, "If this will help you and Isabella then… I'll do it."

"You will!" Paolo exclaimed, his face lighting up, "Gracia. Oh, you will be wonderful."

"Prego," Lizzie replied grinning, using the second word in her two-word Italian vocabulary.

Later that day, Lizzie managed to sneak back to the hotel before the rest of the students arrived and she pretended to be asleep when Kate came in. Kate shot her one disdainful look and walked out of the room with a vague intention of looking to see if there were any guys to look at in the dining area. Moments after Kate left, Miranda snuck into the room and shook Lizzie forcefully.

"Are you crazy?" she remonstrated when Lizzie opened her eyes, "You nearly got caught today. Luckily, Gordo managed to distract Ungermeyer till you guys escaped."

"I know, I'm sorry," Lizzie replied, genuinely apologetic for the incident, "But I had such a wonderful day today."

This caused Miranda to forget all about the earlier mishap. "So what was it like?" she asked eagerly.

"Let's go over to Gordo's room. I'll fill you guys in together," Lizzie replied, and then she paused, "But what about Ungermeyer? What if she's prowling around? If she sees me out of bed, then I'm done for."

Miranda waved a casual hand in the air. "No worries there," she said, "Ungermeyer's snoring her head off in her room. You could probably hear it all the way back in Hillridge."

Quietly, the two girls crept out and heading over to Gordo's room, Lizzie knocked and called out to him. Gordo opened to door and was immediately mobbed by the two girls rushing in and slamming the door shut.

"Since when did I turn into Aaron Carter?" Gordo asked as he staggered back into his room. Seeing the looks of surprise on their faces, Gordo explained himself. "Why else would the two of you be falling all over me?" he said grinning.

"Dream on, Gordo," Miranda answered, "In the meantime, Miss McGuire here has a story to tell."

Lizzie told them both everything, leaving out no detail however insignificant. Though Gordo and Miranda looked like they wanted to interrupt at several points during the narrative, they politely held back till Lizzie had finished. However, the looks on their faces betrayed exactly what they were thinking. By the time Lizzie was done, Miranda's mouth was hanging open and Gordo had slumped down on to his bed, looking stunned.

"So you, Lizzie McGuire, are actually presenting an award at the IMVAs with Paolo?" Gordo asked finally, when he managed to find his voice.

"The same 'you' that almost smothered our entire class during graduation?" Miranda added, having hitched up her jaw again.

Lizzie hastened to explain the set-up. "No, me Isabella with Paolo," she said, not really clarifying anything at all, "It's a long story. But I'm doing it because the real Isabella won't."

"You're actually going to get up on stage; in front of all these people?" Gordo asked, looking as if this was beyond human comprehension.

"Well, that's the great thing about it, Gordo, it's not going to be me," Lizzie clarified, "It's Paolo's idea to help Isabella because he still loves her."

"But not romantically; like a sister," she continued, and then a dreamy look came into her face, "He is so amazing. And he's only seventeen. I mean, for being so famous and so used to getting whatever you want, he's just so kind." Lizzie did not notice Gordo squirming during this lovely character sketch.

"For real? That's a lot to say about someone just knowing them a day," Gordo said pointedly. Unfortunately, Lizzie was too high up on cloud nine to notice such pointed remarks. Miranda, on the other hand, did notice, and began to feel rather uncomfortable knowing that this state of affairs was likely to end with one of them, or possibly both, getting hurt. But for the life of her, she couldn't think of how she was going to do anything to help.

"I know that," Lizzie replied quickly, "But I feel like I've known him my whole life, you know. Anyway, I just wanted to come by and thank you. I had the most magical day of my life and it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you."

Gordo shrugged shyly, and then he got a bit of a shock when Lizzie planted a kiss on his forehead. She then skipped back to the door, but suddenly she turned and gave him another big smile and said, "You're such a good friend." And with those words, she returned to her room, not knowing that those precise words had just smashed Gordo's heart into a million tiny fragments.

"That good, huh?" he muttered sadly, when she was gone.

"Gordo…" Miranda began sympathetically, but Gordo cut her off with a quick "I don't want to talk about it." Miranda sighed but decided to humour him, and so she too left.

If Gordo had hoped that now the room was girl-free, he could tend to his wounds in peace, he was to be denied that as well. As the main door closed behind Miranda, Ethan Craft stepped out of the bathroom, leant on the doorframe and looked down at Gordo. "The sting," he said knowingly.

"What sting?" Gordo asked, wondering why, if Ethan wanted to talk to him, he couldn't do it in English.

"Want a little mano-a-mano?" Ethan asked, making it sound like it was just the thing Gordo needed.

"See this is why you and I aren't friends," Gordo said, as he threw his books back into his bag, "Because I never have any idea of what you're talking about."

Ethan carried on, completely unmoved by Gordo's sarcasm. "See, some dudes get the approach, others the sting. This Italian dude, he's big-time approach," he said, drawing on his own minimal fount of knowledge.

"I can actually feel my brains turning into goo," Gordo said, completely lost by this inane rambling.

"Embrace the sting, dude," Ethan emphasised, "That's what you're vibing here from Lizzie." And though Gordo still had almost no idea of what Ethan was talking about, that name was enough to give him the gist of the conversation.

"Wait, wait, so you think I'm actually jealous of Paolo," Gordo asked, throwing in a carefree laugh for good measure.

"Word," said Ethan, pleased with Gordo's quick grasp of the situation.

"No, see, that would mean that I like Lizzie as more than a friend," Gordo explained, hoping that Ethan would think that he, Gordo, didn't.

Unfortunately for Gordo, either due to a sudden burst of intelligence or just the fact that he was too dumb to understand innuendo, Ethan took Gordo's statement at face value. "See, what do you mean, we have trouble communicating, bro," Ethan asked, glad that he and Gordo saw eye-to-eye on the matter.

"You're wrong, man," Gordo snapped, and took refuge in the relative safety of the bathroom. In the privacy of the bathroom, Gordo slowly banged his head against the wall. It, however, didn't seem to knock any sense into his head, because when he emerged after a couple of hours, he was still as depressed as he had been when he had gone in.

That night, while lying in bed, Gordo thought about all the times he could have told Lizzie how he felt only he hadn't. And now, he had reached a situation where he could lose her forever. Gordo set a record of sorts that night, for being the first person to kick himself to sleep.

A/N: I have been unforgivably long over this chapter thanks to mounds of work. Once again, I have to thank all of those who have read and reviewed. Thanks for all the encouragement which helps me keep writing.


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